Hating to steal a line from the classic, "I Hate Mondays," in the fear/hope I'll be wrong and will have a good one a week from today. But...this is the second one in a row that I've ended the day on a "wrong side of the bed" note. Last week it was due to too much fun on the weekend but this week....hmmmm....perhaps due to a "rude awakening."(Hey, that should have been the title to today's blahg.)
But then again I would have been happy for a rude awakening ala phone ringing. Even a rejection call would be welcome at this point. I'll take the rationale, excuse, reason, etc. that my services aren't needed or I won't be hired. Or...You've been out of the work force too long, we've found someone more qualified, we aren't expanding after all, there isn't sufficient interest, the budget's been cut...ANYTHING.
It takes about ten minutes to compose a one size fits all rejection letter, one minute more to insert the recipient's name and address, and two seconds to hit the SEND button.
Okay, that's it. I feel better already. No more rant. It's almost time for House.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
This Place is So Civilized
Well, I've no longer got the blues when it's time to grocery shop. I love our local markets. Even though we won't have a farmer's market until May, I'm able to find amazing produce around here. One of my favorite places to shop is the Star Store in Langley. Where else can you find cheap avocados (Hass for 59 cents each!) any time of the year, leopard skin panties, kitchen gadgets, cute scarves, great priced wine, crab cakes, and fake nose glasses all under one roof? It is pretty packed in there. You really can't help but run into someone (whether you know them or not) as you peruse the aisles. The merchandiser gets an A+ for displaying goods. And the prices aren't bad. I mentioned the avocados because we used to live right in the middle of avocado land in CA. I never paid under a dollar for one, esp. Hass. Very cool. The store has a smaller branch just down the street from our house. I took Fifi there when she came to visit a few years ago. As we were waiting patiently for our cream puffs at the deli counter, she remarked aloud, "I didn't know this island was so civilized." I think she envisioned us living ala Gilligan's Island because our cell service was so spotty it was hard to have phone conversations without being cut off mid sentence. Anyway, she was quite impressed.
The Star Store isn't necessarily convenient for filling the grocery cart, but it's a great place to run in for a few fun items. There is a new store I'm crazy about for the big shopping expeditions...The Goose Community Market. But, you'll just have to wait to hear about that place. I'm done shopping for the day.
The Star Store isn't necessarily convenient for filling the grocery cart, but it's a great place to run in for a few fun items. There is a new store I'm crazy about for the big shopping expeditions...The Goose Community Market. But, you'll just have to wait to hear about that place. I'm done shopping for the day.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Mrs. Grandma
Today was my first day of volunteering in my sweet, Sophia's classroom. I am so lucky to have a granddaughter in the 5th grade...they are some of my favorite people on the planet. The elementary school enthusiasm is still there coupled with a bit of sophistication ,I can be my wise-ass (albeit toned-down) self, and they already know how to hold a pencil. My little group was pure delight. I didn't have to give "the look" even once. If anyone needs a demonstration of "the look," my daughter does a mean imitation. I'm sure there are probably a few former students who still see it in recurring nightmares now and then.
I didn't get to have Sophia in the group, but that was just as well. If I'd bombed it would have made her social standing slip a notch or two,I'm sure. I guess I passed the test as the kids asked if they could meet with me again next time. They either had a good time or really hate math which was the alternate activity. In any event, it feels good to be back in the saddle. And one hour a week is just about perfect for me. I looked around the classroom and wondered how I ever did it. I cannot think of a profession I respect more than teaching. As far as I am concerned, teachers are the rock stars of the universe. I was very grateful to get my American Idol return ticket today. Thanks kids, see you next week.
I didn't get to have Sophia in the group, but that was just as well. If I'd bombed it would have made her social standing slip a notch or two,I'm sure. I guess I passed the test as the kids asked if they could meet with me again next time. They either had a good time or really hate math which was the alternate activity. In any event, it feels good to be back in the saddle. And one hour a week is just about perfect for me. I looked around the classroom and wondered how I ever did it. I cannot think of a profession I respect more than teaching. As far as I am concerned, teachers are the rock stars of the universe. I was very grateful to get my American Idol return ticket today. Thanks kids, see you next week.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
too blah to blahg
I don't know what happened this morning, but woke up with the semi-serious blahs. But they didn't last too long. After a little jaunt to the library and the local nursery all was back in balance. Then we took a magnificent walk on Maxwelton Beach this afternoon. I was bemoaning (yes, I can bemoan with the best of them) that I really miss living somewhere walkable. That was the greatest thing about Claremont. I could be in the Village in five minutes. Library, post office, cafes, movie theater...all within walking distance. We don't have that luxury at our home on the island. We've got woods to walk if we so desire but seeking the sun is a priorty when one lives in the woods. So when the sun shines our deal is to hop in the car and find a walk.
Today's walk along the beach was sublime. By the time we finished I realized what an extraordinary gift we have right here. Rocks and shells and driftwood, the sounds of waves lapping on shoreline pebbles, eagles and herons roosting on pier posts, scoters and shorebirds we don't know what to call, the Olympics in the distance, and sun on our faces. This works, we'll take it, a perfect cure for the blahs.
Today's walk along the beach was sublime. By the time we finished I realized what an extraordinary gift we have right here. Rocks and shells and driftwood, the sounds of waves lapping on shoreline pebbles, eagles and herons roosting on pier posts, scoters and shorebirds we don't know what to call, the Olympics in the distance, and sun on our faces. This works, we'll take it, a perfect cure for the blahs.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
The Joy of S...
Sleeping, the joy of sleeping. A good night's sleep is better than just about anything I can think of these days. I love to go to sleep almost as much as I love to wake up in the morning.
We bought a new mattress recently. Our old one had ten years or more of tosses and turns and curling ups and many, many dreams. We switched to a memory foam type mattress. The first night was interesting. When they say it molds to your body type, I didn't know what they meant. I figured it out right away. You lay down and that's it. Plunk and sink. You don't toss and turn because you can't. It would require lifting your body, turning and replunking. Hmmmm. We soon realized a little softness was needed on the surface. So I ordered a nice topper that's seems to have done the trick. I no longer feel like I'm laying on a dense marshmallow without the give. Tossing and turning are no longer an issue. I do it just like the old days.
About once a month I actually sleep through the night and don't open my eyes until 5 or 6 in the morning. Tim teases me because I get into bed around 9ish and am usually snoring (so he says) by 10. Ten or so hours later I'm ready to face the world. What he doesn't realize (because he's snoring away,) is that I've watched the clock from 1 to 2 and sometimes 3 in the morning. I've come to call it "horizontal meditation." When I'm not working on ideas during that awake period, I think about nothingness. It's really quite nice. I've gotten pretty good at it. I like nothing. Really, alot.
And then before I know it, it's 7:30 in the morning and time to rise and shine. But not before one more roll over. Just one more.
We bought a new mattress recently. Our old one had ten years or more of tosses and turns and curling ups and many, many dreams. We switched to a memory foam type mattress. The first night was interesting. When they say it molds to your body type, I didn't know what they meant. I figured it out right away. You lay down and that's it. Plunk and sink. You don't toss and turn because you can't. It would require lifting your body, turning and replunking. Hmmmm. We soon realized a little softness was needed on the surface. So I ordered a nice topper that's seems to have done the trick. I no longer feel like I'm laying on a dense marshmallow without the give. Tossing and turning are no longer an issue. I do it just like the old days.
About once a month I actually sleep through the night and don't open my eyes until 5 or 6 in the morning. Tim teases me because I get into bed around 9ish and am usually snoring (so he says) by 10. Ten or so hours later I'm ready to face the world. What he doesn't realize (because he's snoring away,) is that I've watched the clock from 1 to 2 and sometimes 3 in the morning. I've come to call it "horizontal meditation." When I'm not working on ideas during that awake period, I think about nothingness. It's really quite nice. I've gotten pretty good at it. I like nothing. Really, alot.
And then before I know it, it's 7:30 in the morning and time to rise and shine. But not before one more roll over. Just one more.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Too Much of a Good Thing
It's been so much fun to play in the kitchen since we've been back. I cannot tell you how awesome it is to open a drawer and recognize the contents. I'm not exactly a frequent Sur la Table shopper, but I've got enough gadgets to get the job done. Plus eating off our own plates makes every meal a comfort dish. Ahhhh...the nesting instinct is in high gear around here. Tim plays in the garden while I play in the kitchen.
Yesterday I played with phyllo for the first time. I'm not a baker. My desserts may taste okay but they are never pretty. I'm not a measurer. I prefer the "little of this and little of that and a bit more of this," strategy when I cook. So that makes it tricky to create elegant desserts. I've always been intimidated by puff pastry and phyllo. You have to keep it at the perfect temperature, the paper thin layers way too delicate for my patience level. But this recipe I found in an old Bon Apetit for B'stilla, a Morrocan chicken pie was irresistable. I love the aroma of cinnamon and onions and spices...so exotic.
We'd invited our good pals, Barbie and Mike, over for a Sunday nt. supper. I warned Barbie I was trying out a new recipe so we could end up eating cheese and crackers and drinking wine in the event of disaster. I got up early, finished my coffee, waved bye-bye to Tim, and got to work. The ingredients called for exotic spices, chicken, phyllo, almonds, raisins, cilantro...and butter. Lots of butter. An entire stick of butter. That is more butter than I have consumed collectively since I got my cholesterol wake up call last winter. What the heck. If Paula Deen's survived this long, what's a stick of butter? The entire operation went smoothly. It was actually fun to peel the parchment thin layers of dough apart. When I was finished assembling the main course I had left over scraps of phyllo. Couldn't let that go to waste (instead it went to waist.) So, I scrounged some chocolate chips, dried cranberries and more butter. It looked just as ugly as any other dessert I'd ever made but it sure smelled good.
Our pals showed up. We drank the wine, noshed on appetizers and sat down to dinner. It was delicious. Usually when I prepare the meal, I cannot really taste it. But last night was an exception. The pastry was light but crispy, the almonds added a subtle crunch, and the flavors...oooh la la. Every last bit was finished. There would be no left overs from this meal. We adjourned for after dinner sips and shared the ugly, patchwork dessert. More deliciousness. Before we knew it the evening had come to an end. Time for bed.
It wasn't long before I was tossing and turning and gripping and burning. I don't know how Paula does it...she must pop Pepcids like M&Ms. It was a long night and this morning I was very happy to remember there were no leftovers to face today. Bye bye butter. See you in another lifetime.
Yesterday I played with phyllo for the first time. I'm not a baker. My desserts may taste okay but they are never pretty. I'm not a measurer. I prefer the "little of this and little of that and a bit more of this," strategy when I cook. So that makes it tricky to create elegant desserts. I've always been intimidated by puff pastry and phyllo. You have to keep it at the perfect temperature, the paper thin layers way too delicate for my patience level. But this recipe I found in an old Bon Apetit for B'stilla, a Morrocan chicken pie was irresistable. I love the aroma of cinnamon and onions and spices...so exotic.
We'd invited our good pals, Barbie and Mike, over for a Sunday nt. supper. I warned Barbie I was trying out a new recipe so we could end up eating cheese and crackers and drinking wine in the event of disaster. I got up early, finished my coffee, waved bye-bye to Tim, and got to work. The ingredients called for exotic spices, chicken, phyllo, almonds, raisins, cilantro...and butter. Lots of butter. An entire stick of butter. That is more butter than I have consumed collectively since I got my cholesterol wake up call last winter. What the heck. If Paula Deen's survived this long, what's a stick of butter? The entire operation went smoothly. It was actually fun to peel the parchment thin layers of dough apart. When I was finished assembling the main course I had left over scraps of phyllo. Couldn't let that go to waste (instead it went to waist.) So, I scrounged some chocolate chips, dried cranberries and more butter. It looked just as ugly as any other dessert I'd ever made but it sure smelled good.
Our pals showed up. We drank the wine, noshed on appetizers and sat down to dinner. It was delicious. Usually when I prepare the meal, I cannot really taste it. But last night was an exception. The pastry was light but crispy, the almonds added a subtle crunch, and the flavors...oooh la la. Every last bit was finished. There would be no left overs from this meal. We adjourned for after dinner sips and shared the ugly, patchwork dessert. More deliciousness. Before we knew it the evening had come to an end. Time for bed.
It wasn't long before I was tossing and turning and gripping and burning. I don't know how Paula does it...she must pop Pepcids like M&Ms. It was a long night and this morning I was very happy to remember there were no leftovers to face today. Bye bye butter. See you in another lifetime.
Friday, January 28, 2011
I'll Get Back to You (and other assorted lies.)
I think it is safe to say Tim and I have spread the word. "We're here, Whidbey Island. Put us to work." Yeah, yeah, I know it's only been a couple of weeks. It's not like we've sent out hundreds of resumes (2 each)or pounded the pavement (driven to Langley and Freeland twice) or hired a head hunter (checked out Craigslist) or any other desperate measures (bought suits) but we are trying to let the lovely island folks know we are OPEN FOR BUSINESS.
In addition to applying for some part time teaching positions at the Community College level, I've put together a three week Life Story writing workshop. So far it's been met with great enthusiasm, "This is perfect," and promises of "We'll be in touch right away." At least people are polite. I like the yes before the no attitudes. But I'm starting to feel a little bit like I'm doing business in Japan... nods of agreements, smiles and other polite responses. But that doesn't necessarily mean yes we want you. They are just nice people who don't want to hurt your feelings. And I suppose that is what I am encountering here on Whidbey.
I guess I can get used to the niceness.It may take a while but in the meantime (no pun intended) if you say you're going to call, please do. I can take it, really I can.
In the meantime, I'll just keep on blahging.
In addition to applying for some part time teaching positions at the Community College level, I've put together a three week Life Story writing workshop. So far it's been met with great enthusiasm, "This is perfect," and promises of "We'll be in touch right away." At least people are polite. I like the yes before the no attitudes. But I'm starting to feel a little bit like I'm doing business in Japan... nods of agreements, smiles and other polite responses. But that doesn't necessarily mean yes we want you. They are just nice people who don't want to hurt your feelings. And I suppose that is what I am encountering here on Whidbey.
I guess I can get used to the niceness.It may take a while but in the meantime (no pun intended) if you say you're going to call, please do. I can take it, really I can.
In the meantime, I'll just keep on blahging.
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